I am very happy to report that I've recently got my reading mojo back. After a long while just reading books without finishing them, I'm finally back on a roll. I've completed three novels in a span of a week (not really remarkable as they were sorta thin, but I'll take whatever after the lull I have been in). Now, now... I just remembered that before completing The Virgin Suicides by Jeffrey Eugenides, I completed Water For Elephants by Sara Gruen first, but we'll talk about that in a different post. This post is for The Virgin Suicides; a homage to the sheer poignant beauty of the narrative and the way it was written.
I loved it. Completely. It tells the story of the five Lisbon sisters and how they all committed suicide in a span of one year. It's a depressing theme. But I have to argue that it was written so beautifully, so eerily haunting, that well... it was just beautiful. After reading it, the story stays with you. It leaves you wondering, and the Lisbon sisters - even though they all died - continues to live within your minds. The book is written from the perspective of a group of young boys who live within the same neighbourhood as the Lisbon girls. And that's what makes the story of the Lisbon sisters all the more mysterious and grabbing; because the boys didn't really know what went on, they couldn't fit the puzzles together... and consequently, neither can the reader. They are left - or rather, we are left - with fragments of pictures, of haunting memories... all those things that keep you guessing, that will never provide answers. The boys never solved the mystery that was the Lisbon sisters. And guess what, neither will we.